


That Darned Silver Maple

by LMB



Category: ParaNorman (2012)
Genre: Adorkable, Crushes, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Tree Climbing, literally only "T" because of swearing, this is so innocent it's not even funny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 17:11:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20951948
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LMB/pseuds/LMB
Summary: Norman, being the typical necromaniac he was, had a whole book on dangerous trees. Silver maples, he remembered reading, are the hardest of all to climb because their branches are brittle and weak, making one that much more susceptible to injury.





	That Darned Silver Maple

**Author's Note:**

> I just rewatched this movie for the first time in seven years and um I LOVE IT.

Fall weather wasn’t as confining as it seemed in Blithe Hollow. Sure, some people stayed inside to avoid the bitter November wind and leaf-raking responsibilities, and others didn’t procrastinate on their math homework. Not to mention it was that weird time between Halloween and the winter holidays, which left most yards looking threadbare and dormant as far as decor and lawn-mowing went. But if one were to visit the Downe household on any given day after school, they would swear there were no seasons. This is because they would be greeted not only with the sight of rainbow-colored lawn decorations everywhere but also with the sound of two boys laughing and climbing a tree.

“Are you sure this is safe?” Norman called up.

“Yeah, come on! There’s a great bird’s nest up here,” Neil waved at him from the highest branch. Norman gulped and took another step up. If his friend said it was fine, well, he was just going to have to believe him. And besides--Courtney, Mitch, and Bryce were all in the living room together watching television, so it’s not like they were completely unsupervised. “Hurry up, they’re leaving,” Neil urged.

“I’m trying,” Norman breathed. He tried not to look at the ground far below. “How did you get up there so fast anyway?”

“I borrow Mitch’s weights when he’s not looking.”

Norman smiled. He could imagine Mitch going to the garage one day and calling over his shoulder, “Neil, did you touch my weight-lifting set?” And Neil would reply, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” And Mitch would say, “I’m not mad or anything, buddy. I just don’t know if you’re big enough yet.” And Neil, turning out to be right behind him on the bench press and making the poutiest face, would say, “For your information, even if I _ were _ touching it, which I’m not, I am too big enough and I can lift anything I want! ...Ow, my little pinky toe!”

The thought made Norman laugh so hard he had to wrap his arms around the trunk and lean his forehead against it for support. 

“What? Did one of your ghost friends tell you a funny joke?” Neil asked, cupping his ear so he could hear it too.

“No, I was just--” _ Thinking about how cute you are, _ he didn’t voice aloud. “Um, I was wondering why this tree has a ribbon around it.” He pointed at the yellow strands conveniently flying in the wind to avoid suspicion.

“Oh, yeah. My mom wants to take this tree down tomorrow. I dunno why,” Neil shrugged. 

“Is that the real reason we’re putting off our math homework right now?” Norman asked, giving him a buck-toothed grin.

“Plus the fact it’s Pre-Algebra. Who _ wouldn’t _ want to avoid that?” 

The both of them chuckled. Neil gave the branch he was sitting on a pat once they were done. “But yeah, it’s too bad it’s going, you know? I always kinda liked it.”

The branch beneath Norman’s feet crackled, and one of his legs gave out. He felt the faintness coming on fast, mouth going clammy, his damp palms slipping down the rough bark.

“N-Neil?”

“Norman! Watch out!”

Norman, being the typical necromaniac he was, had a whole book on dangerous trees. Now, to be fair, it was a birthday present from his grandma. He remembered the fuss his dad put up when his tiny fingers first unwrapped it: “For God’s sakes, Mom, he's eight years old! Why couldn’t you give him a normal gift, like a basketball or a bottle rocket launcher?” But Grandma Babcock always knew about her grandson’s preference for the macabre, and who was she to deny that interest? After her death, it became one of Norman's favorite books to curl up with at night by his flashlight when he couldn’t sleep. He knew which ones were most likely to grow heavy fruit, cause blindness and blistering, and be struck by lightning by heart already. Most of these had names like “coconut,” “Namibian bottle,” and “milky mangrove,” which, as you can imagine, one would hardly have to worry about in Massachusetts. But Norman even knew what local ones to beware of. Certain trees were deadlier to climb than others. Silver maples, he remembered reading, are the hardest of all to climb because their branches are brittle and weak, making one that much more susceptible to injury.

_ Slam! _ He hit the pavement, the back of his skull bouncing against it once. The fact he was on the ground now didn’t make his heart race any less, nor the rush of air in his ears disappear from memory. Even his stomach still felt like it was trying to leave his body. Groaning, he lifted his right arm to get up and heard a giant _ crrrrack!_

Neil’s feet plopped onto the grass as he rushed over to his friend. “Are you okay? That was crazy!”

“No. I mean, yeah--er, did you happen to hear that?” Norman blurted.

“Hear what?”

“My right arm just cracked pretty loudly. It didn’t sound too good.”

“Ooh, yeah, you must’ve landed on it funny.”

“Do you think it’s out of place?” 

"Hmm..." Neil looked down at him, tapping his chin, before a smile crossed his face. “Here, why don’t I help you up so we can look at it from the back?”

“Good idea.”

Reassured by Neil’s take-charge attitude toward this whole thing, Norman began to calm the anxieties in his mind that anything might be broken. That is, until his friend decided to tug him by his right hand. “O-o-ow, Neil, that’s--!” 

He let out a string of colorful curses, and Neil let go right away. His arm fell back to the ground like a limp blanket. Neil looked at his friend lying in the road and bit his lip.

“I’m sorry, buddy. It must be hurting a lot for you to have said the F-word so many times.”

Norman nodded, breathing growing ragged.

At that moment, the front door opened, revealing Courtney’s signature hand on her hip that let everyone know her favorite show was being interrupted and she did not like it one bit.

“What are you idiots doi--oh my _God!”_ she screamed.

“That’s something you don’t see every day,” Mitch commented from behind her, scratching his head. 

"Well, holy shit! Don’t just stand there! What if he broke a bone or something?!”

“I volunteer at the local hospital,” Bryce piped up. “I could try to take a look.” He adjusted his glasses and walked out past Courtney, whose mouth was now wide open.

“He-- I-- Say what now?” she stammered.

“Oh, yeah. I forgot that Bry’s, like, a doctor in training. He’s really good,” Mitch grinned at her. 

“Fine, fine. Just as long as he hurries! I’ve got a baby brother whose life is on the line here!”

Norman had gotten to know Bryce after seeing him visit Mitch here a few times. He was a genuinely nice guy and, true to his boyfriend’s word, a total chick flick nut. That was probably what they were watching inside just now. He looked like the polar opposite of what one would expect Mitch’s boyfriend to look like. In other words, more of an intellectual than a jock. Not too bad on the eyes, either, Norman realized as Bryce kneeled down and tucked back some of the blonde hair that swept over his green eyes and tan, freckled complexion.

“Hello, Norman. Nice to see you’re conscious, that’s always a good sign. Tell me--where does it hurt?”

“Everywhere,” he realized with a choking sob just then. Bryce’s eyes softened as he placed a hand on Norman’s left arm.

“It’s okay, little man, we’re gonna get this sorted out.” 

Norman drew a shuddering breath and tried nodding but found the right side of his neck unwilling to move. His face had grown a lot paler since Neil’s attempt to help him up. Bryce began feeling different parts of Norman's body, from his neck to his jawline to his arms to his ribs. "Did he fall very far, Neil?"

"Yeah, about forty feet! But there were a lot of leafy branches to break his fall, so it was technically only five or six."

"That makes sense. You also had your thick jacket to protect you. Super lucky day to wear that," Bryce smiled at Norman--who just barely managed a stare of bewilderment back--and turned to Neil again. "Did he experience anything, like cracking or some kind of snap?"

"Yeah, he said in his right shoulder. I think he tweaked it pretty bad," Neil said. Norman could’ve sworn he saw the lightbulb go off above Bryce’s head.

"Oh, I see. Thank you, Neil, that was really helpful of you.” Bryce looked to the front door. “Mitch? Mitchell, can you please turn him over for me? Be very gentle.”

Mitch was there in an instant, lifting Norman up and cradling him in his arms as he made him lie on his stomach. Norman hiccuped, hot tears flowing down his face. Neil, having heard him, reached for his left hand and held it tight.

“So, uh, what exactly’s wrong with him?” Norman heard Mitch ask.

“There’s no bones poking out or anything. I’m by no means an expert, but I’d say he’s mostly just bruised in some places and super freaked out.” Norman felt Bryce rubbing the back of his head. “Poor guy."

"Gee, that _does_ suck,” Mitch said, placing a comforting hand on Norman’s back. Even Neil was still holding his hand, thumb brushing over his knuckles. Norman squeezed it in gratitude. He’d laugh at the fact he was getting more attention from boys than his sister got in her lifetime if he weren’t busy being in tremendous pain right now.

“Norman, I’m going to check for swelling, okay?” Bryce said. Norman sniffled since that was the only way he could comply. He felt his jacket and shirt collar move slightly downward as Bryce’s hand scanned over his shoulder area. His fingers were warm compared to the cold of the street pavement. Norman blushed. Not gonna lie, Bryce was pretty cute, and he may have had a small crush on him. It was nothing compared to what he felt for Neil, though. An older sister’s attractive friend thing versus a childhood best friend thing never usually was. Still, if this were under different circumstances--say, Bryce was newly single and Norman was just a few years older--he would find he did not mind this one bit.

He heard Bryce’s breath hitch at something, placing three fingers gently over the area that had been causing him the most pain. They weren’t large enough to cover it. “There’s definitely a torn muscle or ligament near his shoulder blade. Can I get some help moving his jacket out of the way?” 

Neil switched hands so that his left was now holding Norman’s left and his right was gently tugging at his jacket along with Bryce. There followed a great silence in which nobody could say anything. Of course, Mitch put it best:

“Geez, dude, it’s like the Hunchback of Notre Dame back there. Hey, ow!”

“Not helping,” was Neil’s sharp reply after nudging his brother.

“I didn’t mean anything by it! I was just saying what I saw!”

“It’s okay, Mitchell,” Bryce said. “By the looks of it, you may not even be that far off.” He placed two hands on Norman’s shoulders while Mitch grinned and called over to Courtney, “I told you my boyfriend was brilliant!”

Bryce chuckled under his breath before his voice grew thoughtful again. “This one feels further out than the other.” He was talking about the right side. 

“Okay. I just want to know what the hell is going on,” Courtney said, and Norman could hear the tears in her voice.

“His shoulder is dislocated,” was Bryce’s cool reply to her. 

“Well, that’s just fantastic! So, if we’re done playing doctor or whatever, we can actually do something useful now!”

“Calm down, Court. It’s going to be okay,” said Mitch as he picked Norman up and set him down on the grass so he was lying face up again.

_ “Okay? _ Did you not hear what Bryce just said? His _ shoulder _ is _ dislocated!” _She knelt down next to Norman. “I never meant for this to happen.”

“I-It’s alright,” Norman managed, hiccuping.

“Ugh, no it’s not. This whole thing is stupid. You should’ve been in the hospital ten minutes ago. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but,” Courtney huffed. “Guys are just so dumb sometimes.”

“They’re doing their best.”

Courtney shook her ponytailed head at her brother’s optimism and planted a kiss on his forehead. 

“I’m gonna call an ambulance. Stay right there, okay?”

“He can’t move,” Neil said, but Norman knew what she meant.

“I’m not gonna die, Court,” he smiled.

“Then stop acting like it! Sheesh, look at you, you’re just lying there like a…dying person!” She flew off in a rage, and Norman and everyone else couldn’t help but laugh.

“Sorry. I guess that was my bad,” Bryce said, scratching his head.

“No, Bry, look at me,” Mitch placed his hands on either side of his face. “Don’t ever say that again, okay? You never do anything wrong.”

“I don’t know about _that,_ Mitchell,” Bryce grinned up at him.

“Baby, you gotta believe me. I’ve always felt that way about you.” 

“Aw, shucks,” Bryce looked away, smiling, and Norman could see that they went well together. He tried catching Neil’s eye, but he appeared to be zoned out for some reason.

Bryce interrupted his thoughts by putting a makeshift sling on his arm. “Listen, Norman? You’re going to be okay, alright? I have to go to the hospital to book you an appointment early, but an ambulance will pick you up soon. Neil, will you stay with him? Make sure he doesn’t move too much.”

“I’m on it,” Neil saluted him. Bryce turned to Mitch, placing his hands on his face.

“Mitchell, do you want to go with me? It’s up to you.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m just gonna take my van since it’s been sitting in the garage for a few days.”

“Okay, I’ll meet you there.” They shared a kiss and parted ways, leaving Neil and Norman there in the front yard to watch the cars go by. After a bit, Neil plopped down onto the grass, crossing his legs.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hey,” Norman grinned weakly at him. “I guess we can’t go back inside to do our math homework now.”

“Yeah, I guess not.”

"I can see why your mom wanted to take that tree down, too."

"Yep."

They’d been friends for a month already, and yet this realization never hit Norman till now: they didn’t really chat a lot. It’s not that Neil wasn’t outgoing—heck, he’d only stop talking when he was getting into one of his video games!—but he always seemed to clam up after a certain point. Norman didn’t ask him about it. He never got to. They’d watch zombie movies together, throw sticks for Bub to catch, and get milkshakes at Witchy Wieners. Even on Saturdays, Neil would stop by Norman’s house to play two-on-two baseball and field hockey, or Norman would help Neil out at his place with English homework—well, okay, it was really more like Salma helping the both of them. She was the smartest girl in their grade, after all. Still, by the time the day was over, they would’ve biked all over town and climbed as many trees as they could so that they’d be too exhausted to think or talk about anything. Somehow, Norman felt, this was sort of Neil’s goal all along. Which was funny, because Neil never really planned anything.

"You okay there, buddy?" Neil asked, his smile looking strained.

"Yeah, I was just thinking." Well, it was partly the truth anyway. "Hey, how come we don't talk anymore?"

"What? We hang out."

"I know. But we used to have these long conversations, too, and then two weeks ago it stopped."

"I...guess I got nervous."

"About what?"

Neil didn't answer. Instead, he said, "Sorry I didn't say much to you while they were, you know, examining you."

"It's okay," Norman brushed his thumb over Neil's knuckles. "I had this to keep me company."

"Oh, that's right!" Neil yanked away almost as if his hand got burned. Norman's brows furrowed, but he tried not to let that bother him. Especially since a new thought had entered his mind.

"I'm scared."

"Scared? But what about the witch’s curse? Wasn’t that scary?”

“No. Aggie was just misunderstood. I was more focused on comforting her.” The Town Hall’s repaired statue of her witch persona still made him shudder in disgust. He wished they would tear it down already. “Neil, I’ve never broken anything before. What if it falls off?”

"Well, then," Neil thought as sobs began to rack through Norman's body again, "you'll be just like one of those zombie guys from the movies we like to watch that goes around eating everybody. Including the guy who invented math homework!"

Norman chuckled, wiping his tears. Neil always knew how to cheer him up. It was one of the reasons he realized after school one day that he'd like to go out with him. Getting the courage to ask would be another thing altogether...if he could.

"Looks like I should have been more worried about me," he said.

"What do you mean?" Neil raised an eyebrow.

"Well...I thought _you_ were going to be the one to fall out of that tree."

"Oh, did you?" A suspiciously mischievous tone had entered Neil's voice that Norman recognized on instinct.

"Oh no. Please, no. No--!" He broke off into loud laughter as Neil began tickling his ribs. "Agh, I'm sorry! I take it back!" He got so carried away with kicking his legs and trying to wriggle away that he didn't even notice himself about to turn over on his side.

"Careful," Neil caught him just in time, guiding his left shoulder back to the ground. Their laughter died down after that, and they were left with the sound of the wind. They watched each other's chests rise and fall as they breathed. Norman looked up toward the silver maple he fell from. Neil's hair blended right in with the leaves that were still on the branches.

"I," Neil cleared his throat. "I think I could tell you why I've stopped really talking to you now if you wanna hear it."

"Sure." Norman tried to feign indifference, but his insides were burning to know.

"So, I'd been trying to be friends with you since first grade. You remember I told you we moved here that year from Detroit since Dad passed on." Norman fought back the urge to hold Neil's hand again as he continued, "It was hard enough that year getting teased for being the new fat kid who sweats when he walks too fast, breaks out randomly in hives, and has a lunchbox with a kitten on it. But then, I saw you at recess sitting against the brick wall and reading a book, and you looked more lonely than I was. Everyone made fun of and noticed me, but people would mostly laugh at you or walk by and ignore you. Some of them even got freaked out, which I thought was weird. 'That's Norman,' some kids would tell me as they were beating me up. 'They say the reason he doesn't talk is because he killed someone once and buried the body.'"

Norman rolled his eyes, remembering that rumor all too well.

"Well, I didn't buy it. Mostly because whenever you weren't reading, I'd see you picking white daisies in the soccer field with one arm out as if you were holding hands with somebody." 

That's right--the field owner's seven-year-old daughter had run away one night and died unexpectedly from a coyote attack. She woke up hysterical and not knowing where she was until Norman found her spirit one day and befriended her. It was the first time he remembered being able to do that. _Chrissy._

"I didn't even know it at the time, but there was something drawing me to you. At first I thought maybe it was because you could talk to my dad, or that your eyes were as big as my dog's, but then...it was like I wanted to be near you, but I couldn’t find the words to describe it. It was a feeling I had no name for. I kept looking for you every recess after that. It sucked because we never had any of the same classes or lunch times together until this year. I wondered why I put all this effort into going to all your baseball games and trying to be your lab partner in science class and chasing you down the street after school. And then, I realized I was gay."

“Shit, me too.” Norman's hand flew to his mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! You probably don’t want me to swear.”

“It’s okay,” Neil shrugged. Norman blinked a few times, craning his neck as best as he could.

“How do you always accept me?”

“What?”

“I don’t know. I thought maybe since we’re friends now, you’re supposed to make fun of me or something,” he joked.

“I don’t see anything about you to make fun of, Norman," Neil said very seriously just then. "I always thought you were cool. If anyone should be made fun of, it’s me.”

“Are you kidding? What about me, the freak?”

Neil shook his head. “Everyone’s fine with it now.” 

It was true. It had been a month since the ghost of Agatha Prenderghast had been put to sleep for good. Now, Norman could talk to ghosts all around Blithe Hollow as much as he pleased, and no one would bat an eye. Sometimes, he would even think he saw someone else waving. Neil especially. 

“And they should be," he tried laughing it off, "I mean, you have a great gift. But what do _I_ have to offer? I guess that's why I stopped talking to you and tried distracting us both with activities all the time. Then, you wouldn't find out I’m just the dumb gay kid with a crush on you.”

“No, Neil. No one should be making fun of you either. You’re the nicest guy ever and see the good in everybody, even when they’re horrible to you. Nobody else ever made me laugh so hard. You are loyal to me. You were all along. And if it took falling out of a tree for me to realize this, then I’m glad it happened.”

Norman’s pale blue eyes as he said this made Neil’s heart beat even faster.

“You’d better stop that, or I’m gonna do something we both might regret.”

“Like what?”

And in an instant, Neil’s lips were pushing against his. Firm, puckered, almost like he’d watched a video tutorial and unsuccessfully tried copying it. Yet, it didn’t stop Norman’s cheeks from blushing after he pulled away.

“Um, I think we might be a bit too young for this,” he chuckled. “It was nice, though.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, Neil.”

They smiled at each other and watched a leaf fall from the silver maple before Norman spoke up again. “So, if you’re gay, then how come your mom--her exercise videos--”

“What? I like big butts, okay?”

A mischievous look crossed Norman’s face just then.

“So, you’re not disappointed, then.”

“About what?”

“About me being virtually buttless.”

“What? That’s not true.” Neil’s eyes glinted. “You’ve got a _ little _ bit of a tush back there.”

“Neil,” Norman gasped with laughter.

“Don’t worry. I have a big enough butt for the both of us.”

“Come here,” Norman reached up with his left hand, “come here.” In an instant, he was bringing Neil down by the back of his neck and they were kissing again. Their giggling receded as they got lost in the feeling of their lips pressed against each other. Norman had watched the video tutorials on this subject a little more carefully, and maybe even a few movies, as seen by the softness of his lips and the way he slowed the moment down enough for the both of them. But Neil had a few tricks of his own. One of which was to sneak a hand behind Norman’s head while wrapping another arm around him in a sort of hug. This way, he could guide him onto his left shoulder so that they were both lying down in the grass. They pulled away at the same time and didn’t even realize their eyes had been closed.

“I thought you said we weren’t old enough yet,” said Neil.

“Well, I figured if we were gonna talk about butts, we might as well be kissing.” 

Neil smirked and ran a hand through Norman’s hair as the other cuddled up to him. “This is nice.”

“What, hugging?”

“Yeah. We should do this all the time instead if we don’t feel like talking.”

“Oh, I have a feeling we’re gonna be talking a lot more now.”

“That’s good,” Norman teased with his buck-toothed grin, “because I feel like I’m just getting to know you.”

The two of them waited under that darned silver maple for almost an hour until the ambulance came. But it was okay, because at least they had each other.

**Author's Note:**

> Let eleven-year-olds be gay, dammit!


End file.
